"This is Commander Emma Edgerton of the United Federation of Planets. The House Vivendi fleet is now under the protection of the Federation. You will cease firing on their warships and will not attack their transports or you will face the consequences. They have agreed to evacuate."
"Bloody..." her brother began before the link closed.
"Good talk," Selene said.
For several seconds the battle continued to rage unabated, but then slowly the fighters of House Artois fell back and swarmed around their capitol ships like angry bees around a hive. Selene narrowed her eyes. If they were going to let House Vivendi evacuate, why weren't the fighters entering the hangars? She opened a channel and shouted "Emma, it's a trap!"
Too late. The enemy cruisers of House Artois fired on Emma and the cluster of transports. "No!" Selene shouted. She accelerated without thought, anger mingling with disbelief, racing toward the enemy fighters surging toward their prey like hawks diving for a hare. A quick glance at her HUD showed the rest of Victory Squadron following her. The other squadrons were hanging back.
"Victory Squadron, stand down," the voice of the Judicator's CAG came over the squadron channel.
"With respect CAG, that is our squadron leader."
"You are not authorized to engage. I repeat, you are not authorized to engage."
Three Victory Squadron pilots turned back. Selene kept her course as seven other fighters followed her. She wasn't sure what eight fighters could do alone, but it was better than standing by and doing nothing.
Seeing this, a new voice came over the channel. "This is Commander Dent to the remnant of Victory Squadron disobeying a direct order to return to the Judicator. Return now or you will face court martial for disobeying a direct order. You have one minute to comply."
"Bite me," Selene said, though the channel wasn't open. She continued her path.
"You leave us with no choice." Selene's sensors showed energy build-up in the section of the Judicator housing its shadow drive. Moments later it and the support ships shifted and were gone.
"Traitors!" Selene shouted, slamming her fist on the console. She opened the squadron channel. "Listen up, Victory Squadron, I don't have to tell you what just happened. We're on our own. So fight until your last breath. That's our commander out there."
"We're with you, Seven," Victory Three answered.
The remnant of Victory Squadron continued their course. Selene's HUD showed two transports from House Vivendi taking heavy damage. Emma's signature was still there, the system would have notified Selene if she were gone, but the amount of activity on the display drowned out her icon. Her fighter flashed past the flagship of House Artois. Target lock alarms blared and she did a barrel-roll, evading a hail of laser fire erupting from the flank of her brother's ship. Did they realize their commander's sister was out there? A pair of lasers struck one of her fighters, Victory Eight, sending it veering off course. A second barrage, this time of four lasers converging on a single point, struck home and destroyed them.
Within seconds Selene and her squad were past the enemy capitol ships and closing on the rear of the fighter swarm already engaged in conflict with the transports and remaining combat craft of House Vivendi. Her first target came into missile range. Selene triggered a pair of missiles and they streaked out, curving toward the target.
The enemy fighter tried to dodge the missiles, and succeeded with the first, but the second missile struck home and the fighter exploded in a ball of short-lived flame.
Selene's next target was in coilgun range. She led her target and pulled the trigger. A thin stream of shells hurtled across the void. Several burned up in the shields, but enough passed through to damage the enemy's thrusters and send them into a tailspin. Selene's finger hovered over the trigger. Yes, she was angry at the traitors for abandoning her, her father for disowning her, and her brother for proving to be ruthless, but did this pilot, who was just following orders, deserve to die?
The decision was taken out of her hands when the fighter exploded.
So much for showing mercy.
The icon representing another Victory Squadron pilot winked out. They wouldn't survive much longer.
A ding indicated an incoming transmission. It was coming from the Goldstar. "I'm a little busy fighting your goons," she snapped at her brother.
"You can't win, Selene. Surrender and I assure you no harm will come to you."
"No harm until you want it to happen, you mean," Selene retorted.
"If you want to be a martyr, little sister, be my guest. I'm giving you a way out."
Selene gritted her teeth. She would be no use to the Federation dead and there wasn't a single weak point she could exploit to wreak major damage as a sacrifice. But maybe she could leverage her brother's desire for her to live. "I'll surrender if you let all the pilots in my squadron, including Emma, live as well." It would be selfish if she took him up on his offer and didn't think of them.
"But of course, little sister," he said. His greasy tone made the hairs on Selene's arm stand up but she had no other choice. "You and your fellow pilots will be my guests."
"And you'll let the remaining Vivendi employees go free?"
"Neither I nor my fleet shall harm them."
Selene switched back to the Victory Squadron channel. "This is Selene to all Federation and House Vivendi forces. I have negotiated a cease fire with the commander of the Goldstar. He has agreed to allow us all to live in exchange for Victory Squadron surrendering and coming aboard his ship." She left out the fact it was mostly she he wanted.
Emma, who had until that point been silent, came over the channel directly to Selene. "Do you trust your brother?"
"About as far as I can throw him, and Frederick likes his sweet treats," Selene said. "But we don't have another option, do we?"
"Not if we don't want to end up as martyrs. Fine, at least if we're alive we have a chance of escaping." She switched over to the global channel. "I concur with Selene. All Federation fighters report to the hangar of the Goldstar immediately. House Vivendi forces, proceed with your retreat."
The remaining fighters from Victory Squadron, now numbering six with Selene and Emma, flew one-by-one into the hangar of the Goldstar. No sooner had her fighter touched down than magnetic clamps locked it into place. I guess they really don't want us to leave, she thought. Armed guards stood around the hangar and pointed their weapons at her and the other pilots the second their canopies opened. Selene raised her hands as soon as she descended the ladder.
A gasp behind Selene made her turn. One of the pilots from her squad pointed in the distance. Void portals were opening. For a moment Selene felt a spike of hope. Had the Black Fleet come? Had word reached them somehow? But then she saw the organic prow of a large capitol ship. A Krai'kesh ship. She turned back to the guards. "That is a Krai'kesh ship. Tell the bridge we need to get out of here now!"
The guards continued pointing their weapons at her. "Keep your hands where we can see them and follow us," one said. "Let's go."
Why were the guards so calm about this? She had witnessed other pilots aboard the Independence puking when first encountering the Krai'kesh. Unless...she felt a chill down her spine. "They've seen the Krai'kesh before," she whispered.
No sooner had the Krai'kesh ships fully emerged from their void portals than they opened fire on the ships of House Vivendi. "No!" Selene shouted, stepping toward the force field protecting the docking bay from space as if she could do anything to stop them.
"Stop right there!" one of the guards shouted. A beam of light flashed past her on the right and left a burn mark on the floor inches away from her boots.
He promised he wouldn't hurt the House Vivendi forces. She hung her head as realization struck her. He had said he wouldn't hurt them. He'd made no mention of the Krai'kesh hurting them. She should have read between the lines, but she'd never been good at contract negotiations of the double-speak merchants used to create loopholes and manipulate others.
; Chapter 4 - Hard Entry
"Oi miss Tar Ebon already," Corbin said. He sat across from Kimberly. He plucked at his uniform. "Why di’ it have ta be me as the servant?"
"Because our cover demanded it," Kimberly said. "Believe me, this dress is not the most comfortable." She tugged at the hem of her dress and wiggled her toes in her white shoes."
"Oh ya, complain about playing the part of the rich merchant woman from Tar Ebon. Poor you," Corbin mocked. "Baillidh isn't even allowed in this part of the transport. He's is stuck in coach."
"I didn't know you cared so much about Baillidh," Kimberly said. Or me, she thought.
"Oi don't. Oi'm considering going back there if it will let me get out of this uniform."
"You have to maintain your cover. It wouldn't do to have my servant wandering around the transport."
"Well, aren' ye adaptin' to yer hoity toity role well?"
Kimberly rolled her eyes. "I wore my share of dresses back home. I guess I picked up more of the high life than I thought."
"Did ye live the charmed life of a princess?"
Kimberly snorted. "Hardly. My mother died when I was four and my father was consumed by work. But he made good money and my aunt practically raised me. She wore a dress every day and insisted girls should only wear dresses. No pants allowed in her house."
"Quite draconian."
"I didn't think so at the time. I enjoyed twirling in my dresses as a child and seeing the look on my aunt's face when I came in from outside all muddy."
"She still alive and kickin'?"
Kimberly looked down at the floor between her feet. "I neglected to mention my home planet was Galatia IV." She looked up sheepishly at Corbin to gauge his reaction.
The blank look on his face slowly changed to recognition of the name. "Oh...oh! So she...died? Did she stay dead? Is she undead? Oi ferget what the term is."
"It's undead," Kimberly replied, the face of her former best friend flashing in her mind. "But no, she died permanently and didn't resurrect."
"Oi'm sorry."
"It's going to sound callous, but I'm not sorry she died. I saw what the people who were cured went through in the aftermath of the outbreak. All the discrimination and hatred, always being looked at sideways and with poorly disguised fear in their eyes. No, I think people like my aunt and father were the lucky ones." She didn't mention the role her father had played in the infection.
"Oi've seen people from there, but never known anyone up close and personal like."
"My best friend in high school was infected. She died and rose again. It... changed her."
"Oi know oi'd be goin' crazy if oi were infected with that virus. So oi dun blame her."
Kimberly pursed her lips. There had been more to it than just the infection, but it certainly pushed her over the edge.
"How'd you survive?" he asked.
Kimberly sighed. She had expected, and dreaded, that question. "I stayed home that day with a cold. My father told me to run and hide in the woods, in a hunting blind we used to go to every fall. Going there was one of the few times I was allowed to wear pants. My aunt would tut as she saw us heading out toward the woods and usually call out how unseemly it was for a girl to be wearing pants but my father would chuckle and ignore her. That day I ran in my dress and stayed there at the hunting blind until I was rescued."
"Lucky girl," Corbin said.
"Yes. I thank the stars every day for my survival." She decided to change the topic. "What about you, Corbin? Where did you grow up?"
It was Corbin's turn to study the floor and ponder her question in silence. "Well, oi grew up in one o' them mining colonies inside the Commerce Sector. Still 'ave nightmares."
"How did you get out?"
"Me parents bribed a trader to smuggle me out. Took every dime they 'ad. They died a few years later."
"I'm sorry, Corbin." It seemed they had both lost their parents.
Corbin waved a hand to dismiss her concerns. "Bah, 'twas years ago. Oi've moved on." His clenched fists said otherwise.
"Was it in the Epsilon system?"
"Nay. Closer to the Non-aligned Planets. That's where oi went after escaping."
"How did you come to join the FIA, then?"
"Funny thing, that. See, oi fell into a life of crime, eh. Oi got in with the wrong people, yadda yadda. Ended up going to Tar Ebon for this big heist. Big, elaborate heist. So oi'm in there, stealing some bracelets a buyer is paying millions for when oi feel a rustle of wind, like a breeze blowin' through me beard. But oi' think to meself there's no windows to let a breeze in. Before oi can do much more than turn me head oi've got a knife at me throat. Know who it was?"
Kimberly shook her head, not wanting to speak and interrupt the story.
"It was the bloody director of the FIA herself, Bridgette. Holding a knife to me throat! Oi didn't know who she was at first. She asked me what oi was doin' there. Oi figured honesty was the best policy, right, and so oi told her what oi'd been sent ta steal. Know what she did next, lass?"
Kimberly shook her head again, though she felt slightly more annoyed. Obviously she didn't know what Bridgette had done next.
"She sits me down and hands me the bracelet. She tells me to go back ta the group oi was with and take the bracelet ta the buyer. So oi do, nervous as all get out. The group and oi go ta the buyer together and right after oi hand over the bracelet oi feel that same breeze. Guess who it was."
Kimberly cocked her head to the side. "Let me guess. Bridgette. Just finish the story, Corbin."
"Aye, Bridgette herself standin' beside me! The goons oi was with weren't too happy ta see her, though, and they decided ta attack her. Fools. She made short work of 'em and soon had the buyer on his knees as FIA agents and security forces swarmed the place. Afterward, she comes over ta me and asks if oi want a job in the FIA. O' course oi couldn't refuse. So oi joined up and the rest be history."
"Impressive story. Did you ever figure out what the buyer wanted with the bracelet they were willing to pay so much for it?"
"She didn' tell lowly ol' me, mind you, but the group that got me in there ta steel it said it had some magical powers of immortality or something. The buyer wanted ta see if the claims were true."
"While I know magic exists, I doubt a bracelet could make someone immortal."
"It was in that vault for some reason, lass."
She couldn't argue with that, so instead settled for looking out the viewport at the planet they were fast approaching. Epsilon III boasted a large metropolis which dominated the east and west coast of the primary continent. The center of the continent appeared sparse. "They have a feudal society, right?"
Corbin followed her gaze. "Aye, there is no middle class in the Commerce Sector. Yer either wealthy or working poor. The working poor be in so much debt they never get out of it by working. That's why so many men and women become mercenaries - they want a chance ta become something more by piggy-backing on the success of the merchant families or corporations."
"Sounds depressing."
"Eh, on the mining base most people indulged in pleasurable activities ta forget their shitty lives. Oi was called crazy fer wanting to leave."
"Five minutes to landing," a voice came over the intercom.
"'Ave you talked to the ambassador yet?" Corbin asked.
"He strikes me as a lecherous old man." Indeed, he had stared openly at her when she was boarding the ship, his beady eyes looking her up and down. It had sent a chill down her spine.
The ship touched down a few minutes later and Kimberly departed the ship, Corbin following obediently behind her. They stood to the side and waited for Baillidh. He trotted down the ramp with a backpack as his only luggage.
"How was coach?" Corbin asked.
"Uncomfortable. I sat next to a woman who snored the entire time. Hard to concentrate."
"Where to next, your highness?"
"I'm a merchant, not royalty, Corbin."
"’ere they're pretty much the same thing
. At least for the big merchants in the Commerce Sector."
"Well I'm a foreign merchant, so I doubt it will apply to me."
"Eh, fake it till ye make it."
"Fake it till I become a snobby merchant?"
"If we want ta survive here, yeah."
"Do snobby merchants slap their insolent servants?"
"Careful, lass, oi might like that."
Kimberly rolled her eyes and turned to their destination. The transport was docked on an outdoor landing pad connected to a private facility owned by AstCorp. A prominent logo incorporating an asteroid loomed above the entrance. "Are there no public facilities here?"
"No, ma'am," Corbin responded. "No welfare or social services. Ye lose yer job and the government won't help ye."
"So what do those people do?"
"Some will go to loan sharks and become indentured servants. Others will become beggars on the street. Still others sell themselves into slavery ta have a roof over their head and food in their bellies."
"It sounds so brutal," Kimberly said.
"It's that there trickledown economics at work. The top gets everything and the bottom gets very little. Yer house can burn down here if ye don't pay the local corporation that owns the fire department."
"Let's hope we're not stuck here, then."
"Aye."
The ambassador from the Federation, Archelaus Barrius, strode off the transport, nose up in the air and a haughty expression on his face. He ogled Kimberly as he passed but refrained from speaking to her. Kimberly smiled politely at him, even as she imagined kicking him in the groin. She and the two men followed the ambassador and his cloud of hangers-on and assistants into the AstCorp facility where a security checkpoint was set up. "Let me guess, private security forces?"
"Private thugs is more like it. Count yer valuables after going through a checkpoint like this. They'd sooner steal yer stuff and beat ye up if ye call them out than look at ye."
"Speaking from experience?" She understood his bitterness after being oppressed living in the Commerce Sector, but for him to know about the thuggish nature of security forces on the capitol planet she guessed it came from first-hand experience.
Ruin: A Seven Stars Novel (Dark Tide Trilogy Book 3) Page 4
